TOUCHED BY FATE is now on shelves near you! #newrelease #pnr #romsus

Mike! MIKE! Do you know what day it is? IT’S RELEASE DAY!

(Actually, release day was Tuesday, but since life pretty much splattered like pigeon poop on a windshield, we’re doing release day today!)

That’s right! TOUCHED BY FATE, the second book in my PSY-IV Teams series is now available wherever you purchase your e-books! So if you haven’t gotten your copy yet, go (insert shooing motions with hands). Go get your copy and don’t miss Risia and Tag as they race through the less glamourous side of Vegas and espionage.

touchedbyfate_MIU

Now available in eBook format at:

MUSEIT UP / AMAZON / BARNES AND NOBLEiBOOKS / KOBO / SCRIBD

TOUCHED BY FATE, PSY-IV Teams #2

Trusting him with her secrets is dangerous.

 As a specialized consultant for the Department of Defense, Risia Lacoste understands the bargaining chip of a well-kept secret. When her current assignment threatens to unearth her deeply buried skeletons, she’s forced into a high-stakes game of lies and loyalty where even her ability to foresee the future can’t predict the winner.

Trusting him with her heart could be fatal.

Darkness lies under the skin of every man, and PSY-IV Team operative and touch empath, Tag Gunderson, has the demons to prove it. Scarred by betrayal and disillusionment, he’s not Risia’s top pick for a partner in the game, but he’s all she’s got.

As the game draws them deeper into a pit of intrigue and their list of enemies grow, will Risia trust Tag with more than her secrets or will his demons destroy them both?

READ CHAPTER ONE

         Why, when you finally think you have your chosen path hammered out, Fate, the fickle bitch, always, I mean always, manages to knock you on your ass? Let’s just check out where my ass was currently. Hunched behind a mammoth RV, you know the kind, those massive houses on wheels that tend to flock southward every winter. Unfortunately, this particular one was perched in a parking lot, a stone’s throw from my lovely, air-conditioned condo in downtown Las Vegas. Not only was the baked asphalt burning said ass, but I was still struggling with watching another, very daring ass of the presumably male variety dangle off my top-floor balcony before dropping down to the one below it.

What the hell?

Maybe the July heat was playing tricks with my mind. Either that or last night’s ugly events had finally broken my tenuous hold on sanity. Yeah, let’s go with that one, because sanity and I had a very contentious relationship. One where it threatened to take a hike on a regular basis, while I tried to lure it back with lofty promises even I knew I wouldn’t keep.

Promises like I’d never question that gut-tugging sensation screaming warnings again. Because it normally meant things were about to take a very drastic downturn. Like coming home last night while riding high on the possibility of finally being done with my current assignment for Colonel Charlene Delacourt, the warning signs started their high pitched aria. I ignored them. Not smart. Nope. Instead, I walked right into my home, confident the building’s security wouldn’t allow for an ambush.

Arrogant, maybe. Careless, not usually. Distracted, definitely.

Stupid, never.

So last night, instead of being able to kick off my gorgeous lavender Jimmy Choo’s, I ended up sipping a Booker Noe neat trying to disguise my internal freak out of having been met by Lawrence Rawlings, the egomaniac behind Aether Industries and his hulking sidekick in my own (albeit rented) living room. And that wasn’t the end of it. It got better. Or worse, depending on your point of view.

Not only did Rawlings want me to endorse Aether’s upcoming contract with the Department of Defense, he wanted much more. And if he didn’t get what he wanted—namely me, and then his contract—he had no problems exploiting, what I had believed until he opened his mouth, a very well-hidden secret.

The DOD paid me good money to vet their civilian contracts, money which allowed my penchant for expensive footwear, a skyline view of the Vegas strip, and a closet full of indulgences. That same money kept my troublesome secrets six feet under. Secrets Rawlings shouldn’t have been able to unearth. But whoever he had digging up my past, dug deep.

So deep in fact, by the time Rawlings left with his smarmy smile and menacing shadow, I found myself between a rock and a hard place, wishing I had something a hell of a lot stronger than whiskey.

Mixing whiskey with nerves had triggered my desperate attempt at leveling the playing field. Which, in turn, led to my current position, crouched behind an RV watching someone spider-man his way out of my condo. It was such a death- defying stunt, even my lungs were stunned. And they didn’t remember to function until whoever that was dropped safely onto the balcony below mine. For a moment, all I could do was stare at where the whole surreal thing had happened, my very tired and battered brain trying to figure out the who and why, but coming up empty.

One thing was clear. Going home was not an option. Dammit.

Fate was having a hell of a good time at my expense.

Let’s tally her bill, shall we? A black eye, check. Bruised ribs, check. A bullet graze stinging across my shoulder, check. Nerves strung tight on exhaustion, double damn check.

Sweat trickled down my spine, and the muscles in my legs trembled. Not just from their uncomfortable position, but because for the last fourteen hours, I’d run more than I’d ever run in my life. Being blessed with a hyperactive metabolism, running was never really a consideration. Well, not until last night. And if things didn’t change soon, I’d be doing some more mad dashes trying to stay ahead of the rolling mounds of crap hurtling toward me.

What I should do is call Colonel Delacourt. Especially since it was mainly her fault I was in this mess to begin with. My job as the colonel’s information collector allowed me to play some very exciting, sometimes dangerous games. Most of the time, I didn’t mind. The adrenaline rush was almost as good as the paycheck, but this time the rush was fraying my nerves to tiny shreds.

Neither the DOD nor Delacourt could pay me enough to repair Rawlings’s damage to my nerves and my aching body. Initially, Rawlings garnered the DOD’s attention because his communications company had managed to find and solve a newly discovered weak spot in the government’s encrypted communications program. It wasn’t an overnight sensation. It took three years of work. For three years the DOD watched Rawlings and his Boyau Project. It wasn’t until Rawlings presented his project’s results and pointed out the DOD’s little problem, all the while requesting to put Aether’s prototypes with one of the many U.S. acronymned agencies, that the DOD decided to send me in to evaluate how accurate his claims were.

Then Delacourt, mistress of manipulation and guilt trips, called.

Seemed someone managed to hack into some very delicate files in some hush-hush agency, and were now preparing to market them to the highest bidder. For reasons known only to those above my pay grade, her interest turned to Rawlings and his new, nifty toy. Since my job just happened (yes, that was sarcasm you picked up there) to put me in the perfect spot, would I mind doing some digging for her? Stir in a subtle tablespoon of “you owe me” and a dash of guilt, and I teetered. Offering two paychecks for one job? Doable. So I tumbled right over the edge and agreed.

Maybe I should’ve thought it through a bit more, because right now, two paychecks wouldn’t come close to getting me out of this mess. But Delacourt had a team, a kick-ass team with unusual talents who could. Maybe. Problem was, a favor from Delacourt would be cashed in with interest sooner or later, and I was busy avoiding one particular team member as if he carried the plague. He didn’t. In fact, I kind of wish he did so he’d get the hell out of my head at the most inopportune times. Especially since I was pretty sure my preoccupation was one- sided.

Still, skulking in a parking lot in late afternoon in Vegas with dried blood and other things I really didn’t want to think about right now decorating my black cargos and T-shirt, stuck between a rock and hard place, calling Delacourt was quickly becoming my only viable option.

Armed with a new plan, tenuous though it was, I straightened, simultaneously wincing and groaning as my shoulder woke up. The too-close call with a bullet wasn’t going quietly into that good night. A lovely parting gift from my failed attempt to level the playing field. Failed as in, it tilted it decidedly out of my favor. I looked around preparing to move out, when life reached out and slapped me upside the head, because everything leading up to this wasn’t enough to crush me. The late-afternoon sun gained strength and seared across my retinas safely ensconced behind dark lenses. The world began to white out.

“Dammit, not now, please not now.” I slammed both palms against the RV, the metal burning my skin. My plea fell on deaf ears. The world wavered. Edges too bright. Shadows dancing in strange forms. Then the whispers started. See, told you sanity and I were not friends. Frustration and maybe a smidgen of fear rose, and I refused to listen, refused to see. My forehead joined my hands. Setting my waning patience, desperation, and anger against the sense of impending doom, I shoved against what waited. It backed off. The reprieve wouldn’t last long. Never did. And when it returned, it would bring reinforcements. Fun times.

My breathing was overly loud, but the sounds of voices and footsteps managed to get my attention. Trying not to aggravate the soft pounding in my skull, I slowly raised my head. At first, it was just a moving blob, then it became a small group of people exiting the condo and heading across the parking lot. As they took shape, something—no, someone—caught my attention. It took a moment for the image to register. And when it did, I didn’t know if I should jump for joy or just sit down and bawl.

At least I now knew who had been spider-manning from my balcony, and possibly courting a death wish.

Walking out the front doors, standing above the crowd of casually dressed businessmen was the last person I wanted to see, no matter how much he invaded my thoughts.

Thomas Anderson Gunderson. Tag.

Oh. My. God. Life really had a hard-on for me.

Have I scratched your interest enough to tempt you to get a copy? Good. Then go forth and get yours!

touchedbyfate_MIU

Now available in eBook format at:

MUSEIT UP / AMAZON / BARNES AND NOBLEiBOOKS / KOBO / SCRIBD

Crazy Busy = Upcoming MIA Blog Posts

(in best speaksey voice, complete with wiggly eyebrows) Regarding those upcoming blog posts, yeah? Wells, here’s the scoop.

I have this great day job with a local provider of higher education and this is the time of year when multiple graduations devour students and their time. As one of those administrative persons who assist said students, it is also that time of the year when my time is gobbled up by panicked students facing various final projects. As I am there to help talk them off the ledge, my next couple of weeks will be dedicated to their graduation success, therefore blog posts and personal writing time will be set aside.

This is not all bad. In fact, next week will see Chapter 4 of Conjuring Misery, the joint endeavor of myself, Camille Douglass, and Dave Benneman. So be sure to tune in next Thursday for that delicious indulgence of magical fantasy.

And then there are the following exciting upcoming events

  • The highly anticipated release of TOUCHED BY FATE, the second PSY-IV Teams book on 5/24/16 (go forth, pre-order your copy!).
  • Hang on because I’ve finally gone for it—jamigray.com will be getting a make-over. Yes, indeedy, we are sprucing up the place and adding a little polish. I’ll try to give you a date when I get one. This time, it’s not me behind the changes, but the talented staff of Hot Damn Designs and their fearless leader, Kim Killion, who are coming to my rescue.
  • I’ve joined forces with Goodreads and set up a giveaway of 3 autographed print copies of HUNTED BY THE PAST, to celebrate TOUCHED’s release! Go forth and throw your name in the hat!

So while I may miss a post here and there to the everyday chaos, I do promise things are happening!

TOUCHED BY FATE is hitting shelves soon! #PNR #newrelease

Coming MAY 24th from MuseIt Up Publishing…TOUCHED BY FATE, the second installment of the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series of the PSY-IV Teams. Pre-order your copy for $2.99 while it’s hot!
touchedbyfate_mid

Trusting him with her secrets is dangerous.  Trusting him with her heart could be fatal.

As a specialized consultant for the Department of Defense, Risia Lacoste understands the bargaining chip of a well-kept secret. When her current assignment threatens to unearth her deeply buried skeletons, she’s forced into a high-stakes game of lies and loyalty where even her ability to foresee the future can’t predict
the winner.

Darkness lies under the skin of every man, and PSY-IV Team operative and touch empath, Tag Gunderson, has the demons to prove it. Scarred by betrayal and disillusionment, he’s not Risia’s top pick for a partner in the game, but he’s all she’s got.

As the game draws them deeper into a pit of intrigue and their list of enemies grows, will Risia trust Tag with more than her secrets or will his demons destroy them both?

Available for pre-order at:  MUSEITUP Publishing

READ AN EXCERPT

Why, when you finally think you have your chosen path hammered out, Fate, the fickle bitch, always, I mean always, manages to knock you on your ass? Let’s just check out where my ass was currently. Hunched behind a mammoth RV, you know the kind, those massive houses on wheels that tend to flock southward every winter. Unfortunately, this particular one was perched in a parking lot, a stone’s throw from my lovely, air-conditioned condo in downtown Las Vegas. Not only was the baked asphalt burning said ass, but I was still struggling with watching another, very daring ass of the presumably male variety dangle off my top-floor balcony before dropping down to the one below it.

What the hell?

Maybe the July heat was playing tricks with my mind. Either that or last night’s ugly events had finally broken my tenuous hold on sanity. Yeah, let’s go with that one, because sanity and I had a very contentious relationship. One where it threatened to take a hike on a regular basis, while I tried to lure it back with lofty promises even I knew I wouldn’t keep.

Promises like I’d never question that gut-tugging sensation screaming warnings again. Because it normally meant things were about to take a very drastic downturn. Like coming home last night while riding high on the possibility of finally being done with my current assignment for Colonel Charlene Delacourt, the warning signs started their high pitched aria. I ignored them. Not smart. Nope. Instead, I walked right into my home, confident the building’s security wouldn’t allow for an ambush.

Arrogant, maybe. Careless, not usually. Distracted, definitely.

Stupid, never.

So last night, instead of being able to kick off my gorgeous lavender Jimmy Choo’s, I ended up sipping a Booker Noe neat trying to disguise my internal freak out of having been met by Lawrence Rawlings, the egomaniac behind Aether Industries and his hulking sidekick in my own (albeit rented) living room. And that wasn’t the end of it. It got better. Or worse, depending on your point of view.

Not only did Rawlings want me to endorse Aether’s upcoming contract with the Department of Defense, he wanted much more. And if he didn’t get what he wanted—namely me, and then his contract—he had no problems exploiting, what I had believed until he opened his mouth, a very well-hidden secret.
The DOD paid me good money to vet their civilian contracts, money which allowed my penchant for expensive footwear, a skyline view of the Vegas strip, and a closet full of indulgences. That same money kept my troublesome secrets six feet under. Secrets Rawlings shouldn’t have been able to unearth. But whoever he had digging up my past, dug deep.

So deep in fact, by the time Rawlings left with his smarmy smile and menacing shadow, I found myself between a rock and a hard place, wishing I had something a hell of a lot stronger than whiskey.
Mixing whiskey with nerves had triggered my desperate attempt at leveling the playing field. Which, in turn, led to my current position, crouched behind an RV watching someone spider-man his way out of my condo. It was such a death defying stunt, even my lungs were stunned. And they didn’t remember to function until whoever that was dropped safely onto the balcony below mine. For a moment, all I could do was stare at where the whole surreal thing had happened, my very tired and battered brain trying to figure out the who and why, but coming up empty.
One thing was clear. Going home was not an option. Dammit.

Now available for pre-order at: MUSEITUP Publishing

 

Jami Gray Small

Jami Gray is the award winning, multi-published author of the Urban Fantasy series, The Kyn Kronicles, and the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series, PSY-IV Teams. She can be soothed with coffee and chocolate. Surrounded by Star Wars obsessed males and two female labs moonlighting as the Fur Minxes, she escapes by playing with the voices in her head.

Come stalk Jami at any of these fine locations:

Website  /  Facebook  /  Twitter  /  Goodreads  /  Google+  /  Amazon

 

Heat Up Your Valentine’s Day: New Erotic PNR Release THE WATCHMAN by Arla Dahl #newrelease #erotic #pnr

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The Watchman - Cover Reveal

“The Watchman (Immoral Virtue Book 3)”

by Arla Dahl

Published: November 20, 2015

Genre: Historical Erotica

Blurb:

Evil is found when evil is sought.

“For when those in authority neglect to reprove sin, then very often the good are punished with the wicked.” – Heinrick Kramer, 1486, The Malleus Maleficarum

For yielding to the proud tears of an accused witch, The Watchman’s soul may have been blackened by evil. To prove himself unmarked, his body free of the witch’s branding, he must stand naked before all and submit to the governor’s thorough and shameful examination.

Though Giles Scott would resist the governor’s practiced and patient touch, only complete abandon might prove his innocence. And since the witch cannot feel, only Giles’ arousal can spare his neck from the noose. And so, he surrenders.

Yet screams from another chamber – perhaps pained, perhaps pleasured – awaken memories from Giles’ dark, torturous past, and the governor’s touch no longer teases but stings…much like the punishing bite of a whip against the flesh of THE WATCHMAN.

From the Author:

THE WATCHMAN, Book 3 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy is a dark erotic twist of an already twisted period in American History, the Salem witch trials. Due to its explicit sexual nature, with forced consent, M/m, M/f/f and other BDSM concepts, THE WATCHMAN is intended for audiences 18 and over.

Goodreads

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

Belong to me copy

What readers are saying…

“Fifty Shades-meets-Shakespeare in this eloquent, erotic tale.” – Debra Druzy, Contemporary Romance Author

“A well-crafted, wickedly erotic romp through witch trial hysteria. Arla Dahl will whet your appetite for more.” –- Candy Caine, author of contemporary interracial erotica

“The Watchman was so hot and satisfying, the perfect conclusion to this trilogy.” – Chloe and Sabine’s Smart Mouth Smut

“Erotic and immensely satisfying.” — D.B.Shuster, author of the Neurotica Series

My will alone copy

Come help celebrate multi-published, bestselling author Arla Dahl’s latest addition to her “Immoral Virtue” series, “Watchman” Thursday, February 4th, 7-9 PM EST. Prizes, games, chats, the unveiling of secrets, and various and sundry shenanigans await!!

Join

 

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Don’t miss out on books 1 and 2 of this sizzling series!

 

Mark

“The Mark (Immoral Virtue)”

Blurb:

Be this a witch?

In 1600’s New England, it was decreed thus:
“Whoever lies with the beast will bear a mark that is insensible and in their most secret parts, and may be located only through diligent and careful search.”

Accused of witchcraft, Abigail Prescott must strip for the masses and submit to the Governor’s inspection. She is ill-prepared for this shameful, grueling probe as it permits him to see and test her every inch and every hollow.

Governor Jameson Foster has examined many before, but Abigail enchants him like no other. Before he succumbs to her sweet charms, he must uncover the dark truth of this bewitching.

Should she feel his prodding and respond to his touch, her innocence will be proven. And this night he will claim her. Should she resist, fail to cry out in pain or in pleasure, then all will know she is a witch who bears The Mark.

“I defy you not to squirm and moan right along with Abigail as you read The Mark. Rejoice, erotic-fiction fans. Arla Dahl has arrived!” –best-selling author, Pam McKenna

From the Author:
THE MARK, Book 1 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy is a highly erotic, non-romantic tale of sexual awakening and abandon, of the duty to submit vs. the desire to resist. Due to its explicit sexual nature, with elements of BDSM and dubious consent, THE MARK is intended for audiences 18 and over.

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Accused

“The Accused (Immoral Virtue Book 2)”

Blurb:

There is no shame in pleasure.

“Wherefore for the sake of fulfilling their lusts (women) consort even with devils.” -Heinrich Kramer, 1486 “Malleus Maleficarum” (The Hammer of Witches)

To clear their names and save their souls the accused are stripped and bound before all as they await their governor’s examination.

At the governor’s direction, Abigail Prescott, herself accused as a witch a mere hour past, will help test the women’s responses, for a witch marked by the devil cannot feel, no matter how gently caressed, no matter how deeply probed. Under the governor’s scrutiny Abigail is to thoroughly examine their naked flesh for the black mark of the beast.

But the prideful Elizabeth Hobbs withdraws consent. And her fate is sealed. Taken deep into the forest by the watchman, she will remain naked and open to the elements to await her punishment.

Stirred by her proud tears, the watchman touches her. Soothes her. But when a man succumbs to a witch’s charms, he too stands among THE ACCUSED.

“Explosively erotic with unexpected twists and surprises that keep the pages turning.” – 2013 RITA Finalist, Pamela Hearon

From the Author:
THE ACCUSED, Book 2 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy continues the highly erotic, non-romantic, tale of resistance and of submission. Due to its explicit sexual nature, with elements of BDSM and dubious consent, THE ACCUSED is intended for audiences 18 and over.

Goodreads Amazon

How many hands copy

I receive copy

About the Author

Arla Dahl is a lover and avid reader of all things sexy and suspenseful. She gets her inspiration from daily headlines, and is often surprised by how today’s issues mirror those from the distant past. When Arla’s muse goes stealth, she spends her time trying recipes from exotic locales, with rich flavors and provocative scents that tempt and tease and satisfy.

A New Yorker, born and bred, Arla is forever fascinated by the varied cultures of her city. Beyond the rich diversity, the close and heady feel of a moody late night jazz club is her favorite part of living in the Big Apple.

In her current work, the Immoral Virtue trilogy, which is set during the witch hysteria of the 17th Century, Arla twists an already twisted history into a daring erotic work of passion and pleasure.

Follow Arla around the ‘Net!

| Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Blog | Website | Goodreads |

Lust insatiable copy

“The Watchman” (Immoral Virtue series) by Arla Dahl

Tour schedule

Feb. 1 – Nesie’s Placehttps://nesiesplace.wordpress.com/2016/02/01/book-blitz-the-watchman-immoral-virtue-book-3/

Feb. 2 – Dark Paranormal Romance Serieshttp://darkparanormalromanceseries.com/?p=425

Feb. 3 – Ocean 2 Ocean Book Promotionshttp://o2obookpromotions.blogspot.com/2016/02/new-release-party-and-book-tour.html

Feb. 4 – Facebook Partyhttps://www.facebook.com/events/1623365141261190/

Feb. 5 – Tory Richardshttp://www.toryrichards.com

Feb. 6 – Jacklynn Loves Readinghttp://www.jacklynnlovesreading.blogspot.com

Feb. 7 – Pam Ace Eve’s Book Bloghttps://pamaceeve.wordpress.com/

Feb. 8 – Romanceaholicshttp://www.romanceaholicblog.com

Feb. 9 – Musings Of An Independent Artisthttp://www.pendarielraye.blogspot.com

Feb. 10 – The Fine Print Book Bloghttps://thefineprintsr.wordpress.com/

Feb. 11 – Paranormal Magic and Mischiefhttps://dabeko77.wordpress.com/

Feb. 12 – Nadene’s Totally Addicted To Readinghttp://totallyaddictedtoreading.blogspot.com/p/reviews.html

Tricia Schneiderhttp://www.triciaschneider.com

Feb. 13 – A Writer’s Mindhttp://www.skypuringtonwrites.blogspot.com/

Feb. 14 –Jami Grayhttps://jamigray.com/

Ocean 2 Ocean Book Promotionshttp://www.o2obookpromotions.blogspot.com

 

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Check out MY BEST FRIEND’S EX coming from @AuthorTinaGayle #romance #controm #newrelease

Today we welcome Tina Gayle and her upcoming release, MY BEST FRIEND’S EX. Check out the excerpt, then go get your pre-order on!

Blurb for My Best Friend’s Ex-husband
She loved him first, but her best friend married him. Now, divorced Brooke must choose between her best friend and the man of her dreams.
Brooke Janson has loved Garrett Sawyer since she met him on her first day of high school. Now, he’s free to love her too.  Except, his ex-wife happens to be her best friend.
How can Brooke choose between a friend she’s known since kindergarten and the man her heart wants?
Excerpt:
“Hello, Brooke.”
Ignoring the sudden butterflies in her stomach, she waved a casual hand. “Hi, Garrett. It’s been awhile.”
 “I believe it was just before Janet moved out, almost a year.”
“Janet told me about the divorce. I debated whether to call, but, well…I didn’t know what to say.” To cover her awkwardness, Brooke allowed the words to flow from her mouth as if she had vocal diarrhea. “I always considered you, my friend, too. We had such fun together.  I wanted to see if I could do anything for you, but I…”
Embarrassed by her rambling, she stared at the stuff in her cart; lettuce, fruit, protein bars, each one good for her.
Man, I need to pick up a box of cookies.
Forcing back the urge to binge on any tasty treat available, she recalled how his face lit up when he was excited, his deep belly laughter, and his willingness to listen when she had a problem.
Damn it, she didn’t blame him for the breakup. Well, maybe for not listening to her warning. She had told him that her friend had a natural tendency to throw responsibility to the wind. Still, Brook hadn’t wanted to take sides. Because it was incredibly hard to choose between two people she cared about, one a friend since kindergarten and the other the man of her dreams. Guilt sparked inside her.
Why? Did she still want more than just to be his friend? Was this her chance? 
“Don’t worry, I’m over it now. I bought a house, which requires most of my time. I spent last weekend putting in a new hot-water heater. The old one leaked.” Garrett brushed a hand through his dark, curly hair. The silky strands fell back into place without distracting from the perfect picture he represented.
Sexy, hot, and totally off limits.
Available for pre-order at amazon – Release Date June 16 #Free on KU
Bio:
Tina Gayle grew up a dreamer and loved to escape into the world of books.After years of working in the business world doing a variety of jobs, she decided to try her hand at writing and hope to incorporate the joy of being a mother into her books.
Currently working on a series about four executive wives, she is excited about combining elements of women fiction with the passion of romance. The  first  three books, “Marketing Exec’s Widow”, “IT Exec’s Baby” and now “CFO’s Affair” have all been released. The last one will be out next year.Married twenty-five years, she and her husband love to travel and play golf.  She can’t wait for Mike to retire so they can do more of both.
Read the first chapter of any of her books by visiting her website.

Find Tina Gayle everywhere

Home – www.tinagayle.net

Blog – www.tinagayle.blogspot.com

Twitter – https://twitter.com/#!/AuthorTinaGayle

Goodread – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1641826.Tina_Gayle

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/tina.gayle

Google + – https://plus.google.com

Linkin – http://www.linkedin.com/pub/tina-gayle/11/689/759

Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/AuthorTinaGayle/

 

Time for a Mind Trip w/@ronnieAnovelist and GEMINI #newrelease #thriller #suspense

Gather round, all. Today we have a visitor, so everyone be on you best behavior. I don’t want to have to call in the Werewolf monks to do security. They’re a bit testy as they’re latest batch of wine didn’t go as planned. 

Want to play mind games? Then you’re going to love Ronnie Allen’s recent release, GEMINI.

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His life is exactly the way he wants it to be—until he meets her…

Both psychic and clairvoyant, Dr. John Trenton is a forensic psychiatrist who has a wife he worships and a position as a department head at a hospital for the criminally insane in Manhattan. His patients—young adult men, who are some of the most psychotic and psychopathic criminals in NYC—enable him to live his life on the edge, just the way he likes it. Then he meets a woman who changes everything.

She is two days from accomplishing the revenge she lives for—until she meets him…

Stripper by night, school psychologist by day, Gemini obsessed Barbara Montgomery, makes a critical mistake and is committed for seventy-two hours of observation, where she risks it all in an unnerving escape. Furious with Dr. Trenton for interfering in her life, she is now determined to kill his wife and unborn child, along with everyone else who has ever caused her pain—real or imagined.

As the killing spree continues, John is forced to use all his ESP, as well as his knowledge and expertise, to interpret this psychopath’s Gemini obsession and unravel her dark and murderous past. But can he track her down and bring her to justice—before she destroys his world completely?

Check out Ronnie’s Video: https://vimeo.com/130146552

EXCERPT:

Okay, girlfriend. Let’s get serious here. Tonight’s gotta be the night. Time’s runnin’ away from me.

She jammed her eyes shut, swallowed hard, and blew out a prolonged breath. Tonight could be rough. Or impossible. Her heart thumped in expectation of finding the right person to accompany her in the train wreck of her life.

She had no choice, but to make it work.

Her life depended upon it.

Before she could overthink it, she grabbed the pink paisley duffle bag, which held her outfit for the job, off the Queen Victoria chair that graced the corner of the hallway. The entire getup could fit in her jeans pocket but she had to go fancy. She zipped up the black patent leather stiletto heeled boots, hesitating for a moment, contemplating if she was getting too old to wear them. After a last minute once-over in the full length mirror on the adjacent wall, she reconsidered. Nah, not with her knockout bod. Women half her age didn’t look so good. Not even any laugh lines around her eyes to give it away. She winked in the mirror and her emerald contact lenses twinkled back.

She eased the door closed to her ritzy Manhattan apartment at one a.m. with her right hand on the knob and her left palm on the door, guiding it to the latch so that her ears alone heard the soft clicks of the bolt.

Can’t wake those old geezers next door. Otherwise, I’ll just have to do what I do best.

Chills of anticipation snaked through her as she traversed the darkened hallway to the elevator all the while listening for footsteps in her neighbor’s apartment. The elevator door opened. She slipped in.

All was good.

They got to live another night.

Leave a comment with your birth day and month (no year), and Ronnie will giveaway one free, two-line tarot reading to our first ten visitors.

Welcome to my corner of the swamp, Ronnie, shall we begin our interrogation interview?

Thank you so much, Jami, for hosting me. My debut novel, Gemini, a psychological thriller, was recently released, last Saturday, by Black Opal Books. I love your questions, so here we go.

As children we tend to have an idea of what we want to be by the time we’re ten. Before you decided to pursue the artistic dream of being a writer, what did you want to be and why?

I love animals but only wound up having a dog for five days. I was about ten. The doctors told my parents I couldn’t have any pets because I had severely debilitating asthma growing up and it’s still an issue, but well controlled. Since I was an only child, my parents thought it would be a good idea to try it, anyway. We got a lab shepherd mix from Bideaway home for dogs on Long Island and named him Friday. He was precious. We lived in a three story walk up and my dad with a heart condition couldn’t do the walking up and down three times or more a day to walk him. We brought him back with me hysterical after five days, my parents blaming the asthma for his return. In reality it was not the asthma. I wasn’t allergic to him at all. It was that walking him was too much strain for my dad. Asthma did initiate many of the traumas in my childhood, which I deal with in Aries, the second in the Sign Behind The Crime series that will be out in the fall. The antagonist, the killer, is an asthmatic. She goes through many of the experiences I had. So to answer your question: what did I want to be? A Veterinarian. I even applied to a university in the state of Washington that had a fabulous pre-vet program. My parents forbade it. My doctors forbade it. Me, being the good little girl at the time, listened and went to a university on Long Island instead. I majored in psychology and education, got my MS degree in School Psychology. At first I wanted to psychoanalyze myself, get rid of the asthma and then go to Vet school. Didn’t exactly happen that way. But today I have two cats, our two dogs passed over the Rainbow Bridge with another cat, and I’m not allergic to any of them.

If your characters came with a warning label what would it say?

“Hot to the touch.” and “Beware of the killer within.” Um, that last one would be a great title. I’ll keep it on the back burner.

Growing up, what was your favorite character, and did you create a character that might resemble you?

This is a fun question. Tarzan was my favorite TV show. It started when I was three-year old. Even then, I loved the muscular men with strong physicality. Mainly because I was so overprotective from the asthma. I never roller-skated or rode a bike. I wasn’t allowed to be in a pool, either. As I’m writing this, I’m poolside and will go in for my workout soon. I still love the body-builder type jock men. They made up for the physical strength I didn’t have. As an aside, I never dated a man who wasn’t Mr. Muscles. My husband’s a jock and we raised one. Does any of my characters resemble me? Hell yes! In Gemini, stripper by night, school psychologist by day, Barbara Montgomery has the job I had in the NYC Dept. of Education for a time when I was a crisis intervention specialist. There’s a chapter with her in a situation I was in, many times. But no person in the novel is anyone I personally know. Forensic psychiatrist, Dr. John Trenton is both psychic and clairvoyant and practices the alternative therapies and metaphysics as I do, as a board certified holistic health practitioner. I work with people making the mind/body connection. He uses a therapy that I was in for two years that helped me resolve the childhood traumas. It was so many years ago that they pop back up now and then but I use my strategies now for controlling them. In Aries, as I mentioned above, my character, AriellaRose Larcon goes through the traumas I did as a child and young adult. My male characters are martial arts fighters because I like men who are protective. Dr. John Trenton is a third degree Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and forensic psychiatrist, Dr. Frank Khaos in Aries is a third degree Black Belt in BJJ and has his own training gym in Harlem, NY where he rehabs NYC gang members.

Share one uniquely strange experience you’ve had that remains crystal clear to this day.

More traumatic than strange. I’ve had a few. Think I’ll talk about two. One was when I was three and vacationing with my parents in a motel in New Hampshire. I was playing with the hot, yes, muscular, life guard who was teaching me how to swim. He went underwater and I went under, after him. My mom panicked, jumped into the pool grabbed me out yelling that I could drown. She never let me go into a pool again. The second was when I was in a coma for twelve days in 2000. The docs told my husband and son I had less than a 2 % chance of survival. Well surprise, surprise. Here I am. I won’t go into the story here, but if readers would like to read “My Journey Back,” the full story is on my alternative healing web site. http://www.thecrystaltarot.com.

What is the one genre you won’t try and why?

Writing historicals. Maybe because I had a painful and traumatic childhood so I only want to live in the present and not dwell on the past. How’s that for a mind/body connection? Just thought of that now, BTW. Also, history was my least favorite subject in school. I liked American history better, but never could get into world history.

What is the best advice you can share with others?

From Anthony Robbins, “The future does not have to equal your past.” He’s one of the coaches that had helped me get over ‘my past.’ And, “Never give up.”

Time for our fast and furious answers…

Blades, guns, fists or feet?   Blades, in Aries. Guns in Gemini.

Favorite Fairy Tale? Cinderella

Titles waiting to be read? Catherine Coulter, The Lost Key; J.A. Jance, Remains of Innocence; Lisa Gardner, Crash and Burn; Karin Slaughter, Cop Town; Julie Garwood, Fast Track

Greatest one liner? Never give up.

Strangest items in my writing cave? Not really strange, they’re necessities. Statues of my Goddesses and Lord Ganesh.

Favorite supernatural creature? dragon

Ronnie is nice enough to give gifts, so take advantage!

GIVEAWAY

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And for the first ten of your readers who leave a comment along with their birth date, day and month (no year), I’ll do a two sentence Tarot year reading for them, and write the reading in reply to their comment. The Tarot year is from Jan. 1-Dec. 31. I’m a certified Tarot Master Instructor and have been teaching Tarot and doing readings since the mid-90’s. I’m no longer taking clients, since writing has taken my time 24/7. So this is a fun opportunity.

Want to track down, Ronnie? You can find her and GEMINI at any of the following:

WEBSITE        AMAZON      FACEBOOKTWITTER     

Dai’s Dark Valentine Swings by for a little love… #newreads #pnr

Everyone welcome the talented, Dariel Raye, as she brings along her wild, magical tale of historical love with Dai’s Dark Valentine… 

Don’t forget to join in her Rafflecopter Giveaway
Dais Dark Valentine Cover3

“Dai’s Dark Valentine” by Dariel Raye

Blurb

What happens when a sheltered cat-shifter and a dark fey come together?

Three-hundred years is a long time, but left to its own devices, what began as the vendetta of one man can grow to encompass even more formidable hatred.

Daitre Salons is a beautiful but naïve heiress whose true heritage has been kept secret even from her. Now, her abilities are emerging and her father’s enemies want her dead, but what bothers her most is that her new husband “in name only” insists on treating her like a child.

Joban Beaucoup, professional guard to the Salons family, and dark fey (alternate spelling from Vodouin origin), has chosen to leave the quaint yet suffocating French town of his orphan-childhood and venture to the Americas, but he needs one thing he cannot concoct, despite his magical abilities – a wife.

When Joban agrees to marry Daitre and take her to the Americas with him, he carries her three-thousand miles away, then whisks her three-hundred years into the future to assure her safety, but while Daitre struggles to adjust to this strange new world, manage her newfound powers, and make peace with her feelings for Joban, Joban learns that even here, their enemies have followed them, now more deadly than ever.

Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

Excerpt

New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S.A. – Present

Daitre instinctively wrapped her arms around Joban’s neck, wonder overshadowing every other thought and emotion.

Before she could blink, he slid her arms from him and took a step back. She blinked again and glanced around, the environment too strange for comprehension. What seemed like millions of images flashed around her synapses at once.

She closed her eyes again and did her best to ignore the rocks in her stomach, but the feeling of rejection would not go away. She’d over-stepped. He made it clear he did not want to be touched. Apparently he’d meant what he said about their marriage being a union in name only, and God alone knew where he’d brought her.

The magical orb resurfaced in her mind and she watched Joban in awe. She’d always known he was a time bender, and he’d even flashed her from one place to another before, but his particular species of fey were so rare, she’d never met another, and no matter what she thought she knew, experiencing the phenomenon was no less overwhelming and amazing.

Everything seemed to happen in a flash, glimpses of familiar and unfamiliar things slowly registering as the light faded. Joban told her they were in The Americas, the United States of America to be exact, three-hundred years in the future, the twenty-first century, and he began showing her odd clothing.

“Things are very different here and now, Daitre. You will need to adjust as fast as possible. I got these for you after your father told me your size. They will take some getting used to, but dressing is much easier in this century, I imagine.”

“What part of America are we in?”

“We are in a place called New Orleans, Louisiana. I should have family here, and so should you.” He waved across his left hand and a picture appeared.

“This is a map of the United States. We are here,” he said, pointing to the bottom tip of Louisiana.

Daitre frowned.

“What is it, Princess?”

She placed her hands on her hips and folded her arms. “The picture in your hand. That’s something else I did not know you could do.”

“And why does this trouble you?”

She waved him away, the frown morphing into a scowl as she raised her voice. “I do not know. You are all I have, yet I know nothing about you for certain. I find it very troubling.”

He sighed, but otherwise said nothing.

Daitre fingered her gown and glanced warily at the pants, dresses, and other garments he’d purchased. All of her beautiful things were left behind – gowns, jewels, everything left in Monsieur Beaucoup’s carriage.

She wrapped her arms around her midsection. “No.”

“’No,’ what?” His ominous tone did nothing to help the situation.

“No, I will not wear those. They are the garments of a harlot, and all of my things have been left in another place and time.”

 

About the AuthorDariel Raye profile

Dariel Raye writes powerful IR/MC (Interracial/Multi-cultural) paranormal romance and dark urban fantasy with alpha male heroes to die for, and strong heroines with hearts worth winning. Her stories tell of shifters, vamps, angels, demons, and fey (the Vodouin variety).

For more about Dariel, follow her blog or website. She also publishes a new release newsletter and daily newspaper. You can contact her on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, and Pinterest.

Stay with us for the entire launch tour. Click the link below to join the Facebook party and view the tour calendar!

Facebook Party

“Dai’s Dark Valentine” Launch Tour Calendar

New Release: SHADOW’S CURSE hits shelves Jan. 17th! #UF #newread

It’s here! SHADOW’S CURSE is now available, and if you haven’t picked up your copy, go…go…go!

This is the fourth installment in my Kyn Kronicles from Black Opal Books, so if you’re looking for an edge of the seat ride, hop on in and hang on…

Shadows Curse Cover

SHADOW’S CURSE: BOOK 4 OF THE KYN KRONICLES

Beauty is a treacherous bitch, and her name is Natasha.

Death and chaos can devastate even the best-laid plans…

As the leader of the Amanusa, Natasha Bertoi thrives on chaos, but when tragedy strikes the Northwest Kyn, leaving bodies and betrayal in its wake, not even she is prepared for the fallout. With Northwest houses in an uproar and the Wraiths hungry for blood, all her carefully laid plans are put to the test as she wards off the greedy clutches of the ruling Kyn Council. Her plans and pawns are moving along nicely, until he joins the game.

Whispers of treachery draw Darius Abazi to the Northwest in search of justice honed with vengeance. After years of protecting the Council and its secrets he harbors no illusions on how lies can be twisted into truth. As death stalks the Northwest Kyn, he faces off with the beautiful, but manipulative Natasha to uncover the mastermind behind it all.

 

Available January 17th in eBook and Print at:  AMAZON / BARNES AND NOBLE / BLACK OPAL BOOKS / iBOOKS

READ AN EXCERPT

Present Day, Deep in the Taurus Mountains in Turkey…

Darkness spread its opaque cloak over the cobbled paths winding between the stone buildings while silence crouched and waited. In this small corner, goats walked streets too narrow for cars, and the human inhabitants were tucked inside their humble homes. Inside the inky confines of a rustic alley, a figure slipped from the shadows and through the unlocked wooden door of one of the homes.

“You’re late, Darius.” The sharp greeting came from the man lounging with casual elegance among the jewel festooned pillows on one of the low-slung couches.

“And you’re in a pisser of a mood, Zayn.” Unfazed by the rude welcome, Darius snagged an olive from the table. Popping it into his mouth, he grabbed an empty cup and poured a drink. Taking a handful of olives and his cup, he walked across the lush, overlapping rugs and sprawled on the other sofa. He studied Zayn as he chewed, taking in the overly long white shirt paired with sand-colored linen pants. Despite his sun-streaked blond hair and the small abode’s rich haven of comfort, Zayn still managed to convey a Middle Eastern flare.

“Until we find out who is behind Mulcahy’s death, I don’t see that changing.” Zayn lifted his own cup, his sleeve fluttering with the movement. “What did you find out?”

Darius chased the olives’ lingering salty tartness away with a quick sip and wiped his fingers against the dark denim covering his thigh, before answering. “We were right to question the account received from the Northwest Kyn. There is more to the story than they are sharing.” And he intended to uncover just what that ‘more’ entailed.

Zayn’s lips twisted into a grimace. “No surprise there. No way would Natasha cough up the whole story.”

No, the little demon queen was too intelligent to show her hand to the Council. It didn’t stop the whispers though. “There are rumors she could be behind his death.” And if the rumors were true, Darius would ensure she’d be facing someone much more dangerous than the Kyn’s Council.

“I thought they shared a history.”

Darius gave his companion a dark frown and shrugged his shoulders. “Shared history doesn’t mean shit when power is on the line. Mulcahy’s death created some damn explosive opportunities. She’s grabbing as many as she can. What does that tell you?”

“She’s an intelligent woman?”

Zayn’s quip drew a snort from Darius. “Of that, I have no doubt. She didn’t get to her current position on looks alone.”

“No, she’s not one to let emotional attachments get in the way of her plans.” His tone as dry as the winds of summer, Zayn advised, “Be careful that she doesn’t return you and your ego in nice, bloody pieces.”

Leaning back, Darius stretched his arms across the back of the couch, confident in his appeal to the fairer sex. He’d been described as a study of shadows. From his olive-toned skin to his dark, shoulder-length hair and closely trimmed goatee, the description was warranted. The only unsettling bit of color was his eyes—ice-cold blue ringed in fiery red. A deep chuckle escaped. “Would you miss me?”

“You?” Zayn shrugged. “Not so much. But there might be few others with a different opinion.” Humor bled away, a startling seriousness taking its place. “This change. It’s been hundreds of years in the making. Unfortunately, Mulcahy’s death has accelerated things. If they aren’t handled correctly, the outcome could be extremely detrimental to our goals.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Hard to forget when the line they walked was razor thin.

A small nod. “We won’t be welcomed.”

Darius’s smile was anything but friendly. “Their welcome is not my worry. Nor should it be yours.”

“Don’t underestimate them. Ryan Mulcahy was not the only reason the Northwest Kyn have become who they are.”

“Yet, he’s the one who held them together.” A fact that someone out there knew all too well, or Mulcahy wouldn’t be dead. Darius’s hand tightened into a fist, his knuckles showing white through his skin as he fought back the grim wave of fury and grief.

“Perhaps. But he hasn’t done it alone.” Zayn paused. “Do they know about you?”

They could apply to so many—the Council, the Northwest Kyn, the one’s behind Mulcahy’s death—but in this instance Darius knew which they was implied. They were the Northwest’s Wraiths, a shadowy group of warriors, standing between the American public and the nightmares haunting the dark. “No. They know only what they need to.” And until he discovered who was playing for whom, it would remain that way.

Zayn rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven chin. “The potential for a shitstorm is tremendous.”

“There’s no ‘potential’ about it.” Too much was at stake to walk delicately now. “Mulcahy’s death changed the game. Without him, there is no one left to bridge the emerging division of the Council. Sides will be picked. We need to stack the odds in our favor.” Odds that had shifted with one violent act.

Zayn raised his cup in silent agreement. For a few minutes, quiet reigned. He broke it with, “Did DiMarcco give you your orders?” When Darius remained mute, Zayn gave a small smile of acknowledgement. “Our esteemed leader won’t admit to worry. Instead, he and the rest of the Council will couch it in false concern and empty platitudes. Yet they are watching and waiting. Will Mulcahy’s Kyn will rise or fall?” He slowly rolled the cup cradled in his hands. “Of course, it would not surprise me if some are trying to assist their desired outcome.”

Council maneuverings were a given, especially as current events threatened to tear the last threads from the fragile veil hiding the Kyn from mortal view. Some on the Council weren’t opposed to the impending revelation, so long as their agenda succeeded. “Dissension is an insidious ploy. It can turn on a whim. Many are unprepared for what they wrought.” A lesson Darius had watched more than one learn the hard way. “I don’t think the outcome will be what anyone expects.”

“Still, tread carefully. The path isn’t as clear as it once was, and I would not put it past the high-and-mighty Council to offer you up should a scapegoat be needed.”

“Or you,” Darius drawled.

Zayn sighed then raised his cup in a silent toast. “I’m going to miss the bastard. He was bloody brilliant. His people should prove interesting.”

“If nothing else, they will make our visit all the more entertaining.” A predatory grin broke across Darius’s face, while anticipation hummed under his words.

 

Available in eBook and Print now at:  AMAZON / BARNES AND NOBLE / BLACK OPAL BOOKS / iBOOKS

 

Jami Gray Small

Jami Gray is the award winning, multi-published author of the Urban Fantasy series, The Kyn Kronicles, and the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series, PSY-IV Teams.  She is surrounded by Star Wars obsessed males and a male lab, who masquerades as a floor rug as she plays with the voices in her head.

Come stalk Jami at any of these fine locations:

Website  /  Facebook  /  Twitter  /  Goodreads  /  Google+  /  Amazon

 

Need new read? It’s HERE! HUNTED BY THE PAST has arrived! #newread #PNR

The first in an exciting new Paranormal Romantic Suspense series-HUNTED BY THE PAST is now available from Muse It Up Publishing

When facing danger, some situations require a unique skill set. Come meet the men and women of the Psy-IV Teams…

huntedbythepast

HUNTED BY THE PAST: PSY-IV Teams book 1

Sometimes death is the only way to out run the past… 

A reluctant psychic who can relive the past, a man well versed in keeping secrets, and a psychopathic killer enter a deadly game where the past determines the future.

Changing the past is an impossibility ex-Marine, Cynthia “Cyn” Arden, understands all too well. Struggling in the aftermath of a botched mission, which cost her two teammates, her military career, and a fledging relationship, she’s brought home by a panicked phone call. The psychic killer behind her nightmares has escaped military custody to hunt down the remaining teammates, one by one. Next on his murderous list–Cyn. Her only chance at survival is to master the psychic ability she’s spent years denying.

The killer’s game brings her face to face with the one person guaranteed to throw her off kilter—the unsettling and distracting man she left behind, Kayden Shaw. Once she believed he’d stand by her side, until he chose his job and his secrets over her. A choice that’s left the scars of the past etched deep on her mind and heart.

To survive this twisted game, Cyn must risk trusting her heart and accepting who and what she is, or lose not only her life, but the man she loves.

Available at:  MUSEITUP Publishing  in all digital formats!

READ AN EXCERPT

Since I didn’t want to touch him, much, I poked a finger against his chest, ignoring the unexpected zap of awareness. “I don’t know how you found me or why, but right now I have other, more important things to do. So, why don’t–”

The ringing of the phone interrupted my tirade.

I shot a look at the phone sitting on the counter to our left, and then narrowed my gaze at Kayden.

He quirked an eyebrow.

The phone rang again.

“You going to answer it?” he drawled.

Stepping back, I plucked the receiver off the cradle. “Hello?”

“Cyn?” What do you know, it was Thomas Anderson Gunderson, A.K.A. Tag.

I stared at the man standing across from me. “Yeah.”

“Where have you been? And why the hell won’t you answer my calls?” Despite his questions, there was a thread of relief in my friend’s voice. Ex-friend, I reminded myself.

“Why would I?” I gave my answer absently, watching Kayden make his way over to the other side of the counter and take a seat on a barstool.

In my ear, Tag cursed. “Dammit, Cyn. I don’t have time to explain shit now— ”

“Why are you calling me?” I cut him off, ice coating every word.

“Why are you in Sedona?” he shot back, his voice hard.

“I’m more concerned with how you got this number and why everyone seems determined to turn my cabin in to Grand Central Station.”

Momentary silence filled the line. “Shaw’s there?”

“Got it in one.”

“Thank God,” Tag muttered. “Be as bitchy as you want, Cyn, but tell me you’re okay. You ran away—”

“I didn’t run from shit, Tag, I was kicked to the fucking curb as soon as you and everyone else got what you wanted.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Really? Because from where I stood, it sure as hell looked like it.” Silence answered. Turning away from Kayden’s too avid gaze, I tried to regain control so I could kick both of these men back out of my life. “I’m fine, but I’m little busy dealing with my own situation.”

“What kind of situation?” It actually sounded as if he gave a damn.

Closing my eyes, I tried to shove aside the urge to bang my head against a wall at the single minded intensity of the male gender. “My sister is AWOL. Now, can we just focus on why you’re bothering me and Kayden has decided to pursue a career in B&E?”

“How long has Kelsey been missing?”

The urgent note underlying Tag’s question reignited my earlier sense of unease, as if there was something bigger at play here. Worry about Kelsey trumped hurt feelings, so I answered. “Not sure, a couple hours maybe. Her car is here.”

The string of oaths spewing over the line from Tag proved no one could swear like a Marine. “Son of mangy bitch,” he muttered, then he took a deep breath. “The cabin’s an hour and half outside of Phoenix?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “I’ll meet you up there. Stay with Kayden.”

“Tag,” his name came out as a warning of my waning patience. My fingers tightened around the phone, and it took an amazing amount of will-power to not share my own colorful vocabulary. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right. Now.” The last two words emerged around gritted teeth.

“It’s about Flash. His killer is out.” His unexpected answer stabbed deep, drawing blood under my skin. Brutal memories boiled up and I almost missed his, “Stay with Kayden, Cyn.”

The drone of a dial tone filled my ear. My world spun. I concentrated on setting the phone back in the cradle. My legs were doing a great impression of spaghetti noodles, so I let them fold under me and sat on the cool tile. Six months, I’d run as hard, as fast and as far as I could, but in a matter of minutes I was right back where I started, trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

You have to wonder which fickle fate decided to dump everything on me at once. If I ever got my hands on her, I’d beat her to a pulp. Damn, damn, and triple damn!

The past surged, breaking through to rise in a swamping wave of ghostly screams and the stench of burnt flesh. I dug my fingers deep into my thigh muscles in a desperate attempt to stave it off. No such luck. Greedy memories sucked me down.

My kitchen disappeared, replaced by a fetid alley behind a dive in Where-the-fuckistan. Sprawled on the ground, my head spinning with dizzying sickness and my leg screaming with agony, all I could do was watch and listen. Watch the spreading pool of blood and brains seep from Ortega, his sightless eyes staring past me. Listen to the snap and crackle of a raging fire hissed through the night while the smell of burning flesh wrapped around me. Behind me, someone screamed, his wail high-pitched and full of hopeless agony.

I knew that broken voice.

Even as excruciating pain beat inside my skull, I turned my head, recognizing the figure in the midst of the hellish scene. Searing loss, rage, and fear rose to a scream. My mouth opened and the stench coiled down my throat, blocking the air in my chest. No, no, no!

The shocking feel of hands against my face snapped my paralysis, bringing a touch of the present into the past. Desperate to escape, ignoring the pain radiating down my leg and through my head. I struck out, my hand connecting with flesh. “Don’t touch me!”

Harsh breathing filled the air around me. It took a few seconds to realize it was coming from me. A few more before the low soothing voice penetrated the layers of the past. “Come on back, Cyn. You’re safe.”

 

Now available at: MUSEITUP Publishing

 

Jami Gray Small

Jami Gray is the award winning, multi-published author of the Urban Fantasy series, The Kyn Kronicles, and the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series, PSY-IV Teams. Her latest release, SHADOW’S MOON  was a Golden Claddaugh Finalist, and the first in her newest series, HUNTED BY THE PAST, hits shelves in July 2014. She is surrounded by Star Wars obsessed males and a male lab, who masquerades as a floor rug as she plays with the voices in her head.

Come stalk Jami at any of these fine locations:

Website  /  Facebook  /  Twitter  /  Goodreads  /  Google+  /  Amazon 

 

SHADOW’S MOON is on Tour! #booktour #newrelease #UF #PNR

Look at the lovely banner…isn’t it pretty? SHADOW’S MOON is touring during the month of June. Much thanks to Enchanted Book Tours for setting this up for me.  To see the complete list with links, just click on the banner below.

We have giveaways, excerpts, interviews of all kinds. Come join the celebration as we follow Xander and Warrick’s further into the Kyn world!

Shadow's Moon is on Book Tour in June!

Shadow’s Moon is on Book Tour in June!

BOOK TOUR SCHEDULE

June 1st: Starter Day Party @ I Heart Reading
June 2nd: Promo Post @ I’m an Eclectic Reader
June 3rd: Book Excerpt @ The Book Gazette
June 5th: Author Interview and Giveaway @ The Single Librarian
June 7th: Promo Post @ Book Club Sisters
June 8th: Book Excerpt @ Bookaholic Ramblings
June 9th: Guest Post @ Forever Book Lover
June 10th: Author Interview @ Majanka’s Blog
June 11th: Book Review @ Endazzled Reading
June 13th: Promo Post @ Hollow Readers
June 15th: Character Interview @ The Book Daily
June 16th: Book Review @ Bookish Madness
June 17th: Book Excerpt @ 365 Days of Reading
June 19th: Guest Post @ Editor Charlene’s Blog
June 21st: Book Review and Giveaway @ Forever Book Lover
June 23rd: Promo Post @ The Reading Guru
June 25th: Author Interview @ Cassidy Crimson’s Blog
June 26th: Book Excerpt @ Realm Tramper
June 28th: Book Review and Giveaway @ I Heart Reading
June 29th: Book Excerpt and Giveaway @ Book Skater
June 30th: Book Review @ Paranormal Romance Authors That Rock
July 1st: Book Review, Excerpt and Giveaway @ Dalene’s Book Reviews